Wayward Son: Top Floor Window
by Rainy Meadows
Summary: He knows what he saw. He knows what happened. And he's going to prove it was real if it's the last thing he ever does in his life. Contains spoilers for FMAB and previous WS fics. Rated T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

She pulled the trigger again, and the bullet pierced straight through the target where, if there were a living human, the bridge of their nose would be. Another shot hammered through just above it, and then she aimed for the chest, where the heart would be located.

Bullseye.

She lowered her gun. Her name had become considerably more suited to her ever since she had enlisted.

She reached for a clip to reload, but paused at the sound of a knock on the nearby wall. Looking around, she found that the visitor she had been expecting had arrived, his eye barely visible behind his dark glasses.

Considering what she had heard, that was probably a good thing.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I figured I could squeeze in a few extra practise shots while I was waiting."

Finn didn't reply. It was more than obvious that he was nervous about being here.

"I do recall you telling me you were a marksman," Hawkeye said as she slipped a fresh clip into her gun, "but I assume you don't have weapons of this kind in Atmos. Is that correct?"

The teenage boy gulped and nodded.

"In that case," said Hawkeye, "it may be a good idea if you were to learn how to use these."

A single blue eye widened in shock. He stared at the steel weapon that she was holding, shining in the yellowish light from the nearby lights as she held it out for him to take.

He closed his fingers around its handle and took it from her-

"No," Hawkeye said quickly, and gently pointed the barrel away from his face. "Never point the barrel at anything you don't mean to shoot. Now step up to the mark."

Though he was obviously nervous, the teen stepped onto the line that marked the minimum distance a shooter could stand from the range of targets several metres away.

"Face the target head-on," Hawkeye instructed from behind him, "and hold up the gun between you so that you can look down the barrel. You'll want to cup your other hand around the base of the handle for extra support. It'll also help to protect you from the recoil. If you want, you can stand slightly to the side; maybe look along your arm."

Finn obediently raised the weapon before him. He twisted slightly to his right and looked down his arm, down the gun at the target.

"Remember to stay calm," said Hawkeye, and she stepped a little closer. "The last thing you want is to get excited or panic, because then your aim can become erratic and there's a good chance you'll miss, or just outright hit something you didn't mean to. And I don't mean to sound discriminatory, but you in particular will need to concentrate because of your lack of depth perception."

Maybe he ignored that remark, or maybe he didn't. Either way, he straightened his back slightly and took a deep breath.

"And when you're ready," Hawkeye said, "gently apply pressure to the trigger."

Finn's gaze was steely. His eye was like ice as his finger tightened on the gun's trigger, slowly pressing it inward...

...until there was a sharp explosion as the gun went off, firing straight through the centre of the target up ahead.

Finn gaped in amazement.

"Excellent," said Hawkeye proudly. "Try again."

He did. He shot another hole in the target, right next to the first one, and then another on its other side.

"You picked that up fast," Hawkeye commented with a faint smile.

Finn fired a fourth shot, and her smile fell as she looked at the hole that had pierced through the target right where its right eye would have been.

His gaze remained steely and serious. It was a miracle the target wasn't melting before his eyes.

"I think that's enough," she said. "You can stop now."

The boy lowered his hands. It was difficult to tell, but it was possible that he was relieved to be done as he turned away from the target and walked back over to the Captain.

"You're clearly a fast learner," Hawkeye told him as she took the sidearm back. "If you keep practising, it's likely you may become a fantastic marksman."

With what she'd heard about him, she half-expected the boy to retort by saying he already was. Instead he just bowed his head, likely trying to hide his face from her.

She replaced the bullets that had been used up.

"I know how you must be feeling," she said. "You're thinking you're never going to recover from what you've been through. You're thinking that your world has come to an end and that you'll never be of use to anybody ever again."

Finn didn't respond.

"And I understand that," Hawkeye continued.

This prompted him to look up.

"I felt similarly after the conclusion of the war in Ishval," she explained. "It was my skill with a sniper that had aided in destroying a civilisation. My hands were dirtied with the blood of innocent people whose only wish had been to survive another day. Added to that, I saw my father's life's work being used for the same thing. I couldn't bear to think that I had been involved in the responsibility for such destruction, and there were many times when I considered putting an end to my life to ensure it wouldn't ever happen again. And now..."

She placed the gun in her holster.

"Now I'm a respected captain, sought after all over the country," she told him. "I've had offers from Briggs, from the Northern Wall herself seeking my skills for the defence of her border. It may not be the greatest job in the world, but I take pride in it because not only is it something I'm good at, but it allows me to protect everything and everyone that matters to me. I can hold my head up proudly and say that I'm successful; that I can move on from the events of my past and face the future with hope."

Finn looked away. Maybe he just didn't feel like he deserved to look at her.

"I know it sounds cliché when people tell you that it gets better," said Hawkeye, "but they aren't lying. Just give yourself some time. I promise you that you'll get better. You'll find a way to move on and you'll be better for it."

She gave him a final gentle smile before turning away, intending to return to her apartment where Black Hayate would be waiting for her.

"Can I hug you?"

She froze.

When she turned around, the boy looked more frightened than ever.

"I just…" he said nervously. "I feel like… like I should…"

He closed his eyes with a shamed flush of blood on his cheeks and turned his face away from hers.

Seeing him so embarrassed was almost painful, and considering everything he'd supposedly been through, it was something he definitely did _not_ deserve. So with a faint smile, Hawkeye walked over to him and pulled him into what she hoped was a warm embrace.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she told him. "Everybody needs a little comfort once in a while, and it's nothing for you to be ashamed of. If you ever need a fellow marksman to talk to, you can always come to me, alright?"

It came as a relief to her when he returned the hug.

"Thank you," he said weakly.

After all, he really wasn't much more than a child.

* * *

Finn paused as he mounted his ride.

He knew he should head back to the Condor as soon as possible, especially with the new rule that Aerrow had instated. He didn't want to get himself into trouble again.

But at the same time, it had been a while since he'd seen the other Elric, or the brothers' beautiful female friend. Finn hadn't cared much for manners, but it would just feel wrong if he didn't pay them a visit.

His skimmer was fast, right? He could probably make it there, say hi and be back before he was missed.

Surely it wouldn't be hard to find his way to Resembool. He just had to follow the roads and when he got to rolling green fields, he would know he was headed in the right direction.

So he revved his engine and sped away from Central Command, heading in a southern direction according to the compass built into his dashboard. He was the only one on the roads of the city right now and the roar of his engine was the only sound he could hear, aside from the rushing of the wind in his ears.

How had he even come to be here?

Oh yeah…

* * *

 _He sat on his bunk, curled up with his knees to his chest and clutching them there, listening to the sounds of the ship around him._

 _The distant rumbling of the engine._

 _The low-pitched hum of the heating system._

 _The brief gurgle of pipes as somebody turned a tap on and off._

 _He didn't want to contribute to it. Making noise had got him into trouble. It had cost him a vital part of himself. He couldn't do that anymore._

 _Another noise caught his attention. Somebody was talking right outside his door. By the sounds of things, one of them was Aerrow, and the other was most likely Edward. He didn't have to be a genius to know that they were talking about him. What else would they be talking about while standing right outside his door?_

 _Then there were a few moments of voiceless quiet._

 _And then the door entered to reveal the team's resident alchemy expert, and it still felt weird to know that they actually needed an alchemy expert now._

" _Hey," he said. "How're you doing?"_

 _Finn didn't reply. He hadn't felt like talking for a long time now._

" _You know," Ed said as he walked into the room, "I can't avoid noticing how docile you've been lately. You sure you don't want to come out for a bit of target practise? Aerrow let me draw the Dark Ace this time. You should see how epic it looks."_

 _He was smiling. He seemed proud of his achievement. But Finn didn't respond. He didn't even look at the jerk, and turned his face away when he sat down next to him._

" _Everybody's worried about you," Ed told him. "You're refusing to come out of your room. You don't eat, you don't talk, you don't even look at us! I know this'll probably sound cliché as hell, but Finn, this_ isn't _you."_

 _Again, Finn didn't reply._

" _Junko's probably the most worried. He cries pretty much every day now because of how much he misses you. And it doesn't make it better that you haven't even left us."_

 _Finn curled himself in tighter._

" _I know what I'm saying right now could be pretty useless," Ed continued regardless of the other blond's silence. "But look; there's nothing I or any of us can do to chance what happened. You lost your eye to someone who held you captive and threatened your life. I can't even begin to imagine how afraid you must've been."_

 _He paused, probably expecting some kind of response, but Finn didn't give him one._

" _So I won't blame you if you don't bother to listen when I suggest you head to Central Command's firing range at half past six tomorrow evening. It's just that I know you're rather taken with a certain sharpshooting Captain, given how you're still wearing that shot penny 'round your neck."_

 _Wordlessly, Finn curled a single finger around the little coin that sat on a leather string on his neck._

" _I won't force you to go," Ed said, and he stood up. "I won't force you to come out of your room. If I did, I'd be a goddamn horrible person. I'll just say that if you don't want to spend the rest of your life locked away in your room with nothing but yourself and the mess inside your head, then follow my suggestion. It's up to you."_

 _He walked out of the room, leaving the semi-former marksman alone with his thoughts._

* * *

…that's why.

Admittedly, it had felt strange to talk again after so long. His throat had felt odd and his voice had probably sounded a little squeaky from disuse.

But he was glad he had done it. He was glad he'd had the courage to speak to Hawkeye, rather than spending the whole visit in complete silence. She was still one of the most amazing people he had ever met, and just as beautiful and skilled as the first time he had seen her.

Had Ed been the one to set that up?

He must've been. Why else would he have suggested Finn go to that specific place at that specific time? How else would he have known she would be there?

Dammit. He didn't like being in debt at the best of times, but now he was in debt to _that_ guy.

Except when he'd come in to talk to him, when Finn had just been sitting on his bed ignoring him, he'd been…

…he'd been _nice_.

It was like he just hadn't cared about the marksman's animosity for him. He'd acted friendly and kind and understanding. It kind of made sense – after all, Ed had been through his fair share of horrible and traumatic experiences – but as far as he could remember, Finn had deliberately made a point of _not_ being nice to him.

So why had he done that?

Out of the goodness of his heart?

He could think about this later. When he had a chance to rest. Right now he had to focus on driving.

He'd left the city by now. The road he was on was surrounded by trees. Luckily he had the moon to guide his way, but he still wished he could have some kind of headlight on his ride.

He wanted to remove his shades, but the heavier air in Amestris meant more wind resistance and considering how uncomfortable it was already on his cheeks, he didn't want to know what it would do to his eye.

Eye.

Singular. One.

No. Dammit, no. Think about driving. Driving was important.

As he focused his attention, another rumble behind him was drawing closer, along with a bright, yellowish-white light. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that it was an approaching car, and because he wasn't travelling as fast as he could in Atmos, it was catching up.

'It's okay,' he told himself. 'Nothing to worry about. It's just how people get around in Amestris. And there's nothing wrong with driving at night. I bet people do it all the time. It's just nice to drive at night. Nothing to worry about.'

But just as he was finishing that thought, he glanced back again, and saw a person leaning out a window of the vehicle, aiming what was unmistakeably a gun in his direction.

With a thrill of horror, Finn revved his engine and tried to gain more speed, even as he both heard and felt a bullet bounce off his withdrawn wing.

"Go back to where you came from, sky scum!" he heard somebody yell over the roaring of wind in his ears.

"Leave me alone," he muttered weakly. "Please, please just leave me alone."

The speedometer on his dashboard was obviously lying to him. It was telling him that he was doing a hundred miles an hour when from the feel of it he was only doing sixty. Sixty five max. And now he was being chased by people who seemed to want to kill him and he had no idea why.

As another shot ricocheted off his handlebars, another car pulled into view in front of him and started speeding in his direction, and this one also had a person leaning out the window and pointing a gun at him. At that range, there was no way they were going to miss, and with the speed they were doing, a collision was inevitable.

In a thrill of panic-induced adrenaline, Finn deployed his wings and took to the air, managing to clear the car before retracting and dropping back down again with a heavy thump that would probably do damage somewhere on the inside. A screech of tires informed him that the second car had now made a hurried U-turn and that the first had swerved to avoid it, and there was a brief, shouted argument between the two before the shots resumed.

There was nothing Finn wanted more than to use evasive manoeuvres, or better yet, take to the air and escape, but it had been stupid to try to take off in this wooded area and if he tried it again, he would probably crash.

Horror shot even further down his spine as something thumped onto the back end of his ride. Had one of his attackers come aboard to finish him off?

"Don't stop!"

No, wait, what?

"Don't stop moving!" shouted the new and somehow familiar voice. "Keep driving until you reach a more open region!"

Panicking now more than ever, Finn revved his engine and strived for more speed that didn't seem to come. As he did so, he heard what sounded like the blasts of a crystal weapon, being fired at the pursuing vehicles. There were more pings as bullets were deflected and suddenly a screeching of tires followed by crashing and screaming. Obviously one of the cars had crashed, and quite violently.

"Don't you even think about slowing down!" was the next command, and Finn was too terrified to object.

There was the sound of another blast, followed by more gunfire, and another shot was quickly followed by screeching of tyres and more crashing as Finn finally emerged into a more open region. Only then did he pluck up the courage to look back and see who it was that had saved him from his attackers, just as the newcomer looked down at him.

It was the Dark Ace.

Holding his still-activated sword in one hand and wearing an Amestrian military uniform.

"Fly, you fool," he snapped, and then he jumped away.

Finn didn't hesitate. He deployed his wings and took to the air.

What the hell had just happened?

Chased by armed gunmen in cars? Fleeing for his life? Saved by the _Dark Ace?!_

'I just gotta fly,' he told himself. 'Just keep flying. They won't be able to get me if I keep flying. I can get to Resembool faster if I just _keep flying_.'

He didn't feel any more at ease now that he was flying, though. The air in his face still felt too thick and too heavy for his liking and it was getting hard to breathe. Looking down, he could see everything illuminated by the moon, and thankfully there weren't any more vehicles.

He checked the compass. Going south-east.

He just had to make it to Resembool. Just Resembool. Then he would be safe.

* * *

The glass was cold. Al could feel the chill in his forearm pressing against the window. He knew he should probably move away from it, but it was a nice night. It seemed peaceful.

A soft weight became present on his knee and he looked down to see Den resting her chin on his leg.

"Hey there," he said, and tickled behind her ears. "You've already had your dinner, so don't come pleading to me."

Den obviously cared more about the attention than the food, as she started wagging her tail regardless of Al's denial.

"I think she just wants a bit of a scratch," Winry said as she sat down beside Al. "See how she's leaning into you?"

Smiling, Al scratched harder, and Den pressed her head into his fingers as forcefully as it's possible for a dog to do so. Winry giggled at the sight and rubbed the dog's back.

"You're ridiculous, Den!" she said happily.

"It's like she lives on petting," Al commented.

"Don't you go spoiling her," Granny chided as she left the kitchen. "The last thing we want is for her to go soft."

"Are you kidding?" said Winry. "Den's been soft ever since she was a puppy!"

Al giggled and turned back to the window.

"Wait a minute," he said quietly, "what's that?"

He watched as something large landed outside, and through the window and the wall, his ears picked up the rumbling of an engine. He narrowed his eyes and peered in closer, trying to see who had just arrived.

"Can you see who it is?" asked Winry.

"What would we have a visitor for at this hour?" Granny asked bitterly.

Without replying, Al got up and walked to the front door.

"I'm going to ask them," he said as he reached it. "I don't think any Cyclonians would be allowed through though, so we probably don't have anything to worry about."

He opened the door, and the moment he did, a screaming figured rushed in and crashed against the wall beside the door.

"SHUT IT!" he yelled. "SHUT IT AND LOCK IT! THEY'RE AFTER ME, _PLEASE!_ "

Al was too alarmed to disobey, and after he had locked the door, he stared in confusion at the newcomer. The patched clothes and blond spikes were necessary to identify him, as he had hidden his face in his knees.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you alright? Who's after you?"

"I don't know," Finn whimpered. "I don't know!"

Al wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Alphonse?" He heard Winry approaching. "What's going on? I thought I heard- Finn?! What're you doing here?"

Finn didn't reply. When Al reached towards him, he trembled like a leaf. Hoping to provide some comfort, Al rested one hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay now," he said. "Whoever was chasing you, we won't let them hurt you. You're safe here, I promise."

It didn't seem to work, so Al shuffled in closer and tried to give him a hug, to which Finn put up no resistance. And even if he had, it would probably have only been half-hearted.

"It's okay, Finn," Al repeated. "It's okay."


	2. Chapter 2

"Wow," muttered Al after a few moments. "I can't imagine how scared you must've been."

"Here," said Granny, and she handed Finn a mug of thick, steaming orange liquid. "It's pumpkin soup. Winry made it tonight, so you'd better appreciate it."

Finn gratefully accepted the mug and took a sip. It was hot and sweet and warmed him to the core.

"Thank you," he said. "It's really good."

Granny smiled proudly.

"I hope you're not angry at Ed for this," said Al. "I know it was his suggestion that brought you here."

"Nah, it's okay," said Finn. "He didn't know."

"You would think that with such a well-calculated attack," said Granny, "those thugs could have come up with a better slur than 'sky scum'. I've personally never thought 'scum' worked particularly well as an insult."

"It's still bad," Al pointed out. "It still means people don't trust Atmos and its people, and somebody's leaking information somehow. These people were either waiting for Finn or they found him and then decided to chase him down, but either way I doubt this is going to be good for diplomacy. If word gets out that Amestrian citizens attacked someone from Atmos, let alone a squadron member-"

"I've lived through enough wars to know what it means, Alphonse," Granny pointed out. "You and Edward should both know that, especially since one of them happened within your lifetime."

Al nodded, then looked up as Winry entered, dusting off her hands on her trousers.

"I moved your skimmer round to the back of the house," she reported. "If you like I could probably tweak it a little to give you more speed, since I know this world is heavier than Atmos."

"Thanks," Finn said, "but you should probably talk to Junko and Stork about that first."

Winry's face fell in disappointment.

"Okay," she said in sad resignation, "if I ever see them again."

"I hope you weren't planning on trying to go back home," said Al. "I'm sorry, but it'll be safer if you stay here, at least for the night. Leave in the morning if you want to, but you can stay for as long as you need."

"And since when was that your decision to make, young man?" asked Granny.

Al bowed his head and muttered a quiet apology, to which the little old lady responded with a smile.

"It's alright," she said. "He can stay."

"Thank you," said Finn.

"You can use Ed's room for the night," Winry offered. "I doubt he'll mind much, being literally a whole world away and all. I have a bit of work to finish off, so I'll get back to that. Enjoy your soup!"

She left the room with a friendly smile, and Finn spent quite some time gazing at the door she had left through.

"I'd better let Den out to use the bathroom," said Granny. "She always gets a little nervous if it's left too late."

She departed as well.

Finn swallowed another mouthful of soup. Winry was definitely a good cook.

"Finn," said Al, "are you okay?"

The marksman stared at him in confusion.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm fine. I didn't get hit, right? And I managed to get away. I'm fine."

"That's not what I mean," said Al. "There isn't anything wrong with being scared. I spent a lot of time leading up to the Promised Day utterly terrified."

"Huh? But you're so cool!"

Al smiled bashfully.

"I don't know about that," he said. "You don't have to be in a dangerous situation to be scared. I spent most of that time in Liore with my dad, helping with construction work, and for the whole time, I was scared to death!"

"But you had a good reason," Finn pointed out. "For all you knew, the end of the world was coming up, but for me… for me, it's over… I'm not being chased anymore… and I'm still scared."

He stared down into the bright orange surface of his soup. The mug was so hot that it felt as if it was burning his fingers, even though he knew it wasn't. He was grateful for the heat.

"Finn," Al said, "can you please… would you remove your glasses?"

Finn felt his body freeze.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Al continued. "If it makes you uncomfortable, but I want to see. I want to try to understand, because you're acting so different to when I last saw you."

The Storm Hawk had known that he'd have to explain what had happened eventually, but he'd never have thought Al would ask about it so soon. He should've known; Alphonse was smart and observant enough to see the scars poking out from under his shades' frames.

"Okay," the marksman muttered.

He pulled off his glasses and looked up at the alchemist, hoping for understanding.

"Oh my gosh," Al muttered, and he pressed his fingers to his mouth in shock. "How did… what happened to you?"

"I don't like talking about it," said Finn. "I'll just say that it wasn't a fight, it wasn't an accident and it definitely wasn't a choice."

Al looked as if he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine," said Finn. "I knew you were going to ask sooner or later. I don't blame you for it."

It didn't do much to change Al's apologetic expression.

"Did they catch the person who did it?" he asked. "Are they locked away?"

Finn nodded.

"They didn't have any companions, did they?"

Finn shook his head.

"But you don't know if they might've been working for somebody."

Finn nodded again.

"Might've been Cyclonia," he said. "It's been six weeks and I'm still not sure. None of us are."

Silent, Al picked up the shades and looked them over.

"Have you considered-?" he started.

"I tried a patch," Finn interjected. "It got sweaty and it made the scabs soft and gross. I know the shades don't do a great job of hiding the wounds, but they're more noticeable than these."

He pointed at the dark lines that stretched upwards and downwards from where his eye had been.

"I think Winry has some more medical-type patches," Al suggested. "They're looser than leather patches and they're lighter too. You probably won't be able to wear one while flying, since they're kinda fragile, but they'd do a good job outside combat. I'm sure she'll be happy to lend you some."

Finn couldn't bear to look him in the eye.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Something somewhat heavy became present on his knee. He looked down and saw Den standing there, gazing imploringly up at him with pleading in her eyes. Al giggled at the sight.

"I think you should finish your soup before she tries to steal it from you!" he said in amusement.

Finn rubbed her head affectionately and she wagged her tail, her face still conveying expectation and hope.

"Sorry," he said, "but this soup's mine."

He gratefully finished off the mugful, even though it burned his throat. It was delicious, so he didn't really care all that much, and Den let out a quiet little whine of disappointment.

* * *

Ed's bed was surprisingly soft. Finn had expected that a hardass person would have a hardass bed, but it was very cosy. It was almost like lying on a sheep.

So he lay there, more comfortable than he had expected, staring up at the darkness where the ceiling should have been, once again unable to sleep for the mess inside his head.

He'd deliberately avoided telling Al about the Dark Ace's intervention. He hadn't even mentioned that someone else had come to help him, merely stating that he had escaped, thankfully unhurt, and that the drivers attacking him had lost control and crashed.

How much trouble would arise when he inevitably did have to explain how he'd escaped?

And why, of all people who could have helped him, would it have been the Dark Freakin' Ace?!

He rolled onto his side hoping maybe a change of position would help to clear his head.

How had the guy even found him? Had he been following him? Had he been lying in wait in the trees for him to pass by? If so, how had he known he was there? How did he- no, it was plain how he'd got there. He had a glider of his own, after all, and unlike Aerrows' it had an engine.

And he'd been dressed in an Amestrian military uniform.

That couldn't be good. If he'd been feeding information to Cyclonia, there was no telling what they could do. It was likely they knew about the Promised Day and Father and the homunculi and all that crap, and about what had happened to Aerrow several months ago…

…and about Major Blitz…

This was bad. This was really, _really_ bad.

Or was it? After all, the guy had saved Finn's life.

Ugh, why did this have to be so confusing?

Now, surprisingly, he genuinely did feel tired. All this thinking had worn him out.

Aerrow would be angry at him the next time they saw one another. He'd broken a rule explicitly instated for his safety and left the Condor by himself.

Never mind. He'd worry about that when the time came. Right now he felt exhausted. Maybe he had been before now and just hadn't realised it; fleeing for your life could take a lot out of you after all.

He felt a shiver of terror shoot down his spine as his door slowly creaked open. Reaching back, he twitched the drapes aside to let in a little moonlight and see who had come to visit.

Den stood in the doorway, eyeing him curiously.

He heaved a sigh of relief. For the briefest of moments he had feared one of his attackers had found him, even though he now knew it was pretty much impossible. Or at least, he hoped it was pretty much impossible.

"You scared me," he chastised the dog. "What do you want?"

Den padded over to the bed, her metal paw clacking on the floorboards, and rested her chin on the mattress near Finn's face.

"You want to come up?" asked Finn. "What, you need an invite?"

He shifted to one side so that there would be room for her and patted on the mattress. She didn't move much.

"Come on," he said emphatically and patted again. "Come on, come up."

Still she didn't move.

"Den…"

 _Then_ she leapt up onto the bed and, after checking that there was room for her, she made herself comfortable by his side, resting her head on his hip. He had been feeling a little cold before, but not anymore.

He rubbed her head and she heaved a heavy and contented sigh.

"Thought you'd be with Winry," he muttered. "Goodnight, I guess."

He hugged the pillow closer to his head, closed his eyes and tried his hardest to clear his mind.

* * *

A shrill scream cut through the morning air and shocked Winry into the waking world. Instantly sober, she leapt out of bed and hurried to find the source.

"Finn?" she said, forcing herself not to panic. "Is everything alright?"

She found him sitting up in bed, panting and sweating and staring ahead in horror, with Den licking at his face.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I-I'm okay. Nightmare. Just a nightmare, that's all."

He gave Den's head a grateful rub.

"Are you sure?" asked Winry. "That was a pretty loud scream."

"It was a pretty horrible dream," Finn said simply, and his hand moved to the right side of his face.

Winry felt a lump rise to her throat.

"So long as you're sure," she said, "I might make a start on some coffee. Come down when you're ready."

Still wearing the clothes she used as pyjamas, she descended the stairs to the kitchen and filled up the kettle.

It felt a little odd to have Finn in the house again, and even odder that he seemed almost as much in need of help now as he had been on the day they met. The biggest difference seemed to be that he'd gotten to keep his clothes on this time.

She switched the stove on and used a match to light the flame, and put the kettle on to boil.

Was this going to be a thing? Was Finn showing up terrified and helpless in Resembool going to become a common occurrence?

Not that she minded much. He was a nice guy, if a little obnoxious at times, though something appeared to have happened that had toned down his attitude by rather a worrying degree. She would've been able to tell even without the obvious scarring on his face, and judging by how dark it still was it had been quite recent.

She took several mugs from a cupboard, along with the coffee pot and the sugar bowl. She preferred liquid milk to the powdered creamer. The powdered creamer just felt odd on her tongue. It was like drinking flour. Which was odd, because Edward always seemed to prefer the powder. Would he ever get over his strange hatred of milk? He was fine with cheese.

A yawn from the doorway informed her that Alphonse was now up as well.

"Good morning, Winry," he said.

"Morning," Winry replied. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes please," said Al.

"I'm guessing it was Finn who woke you up," Winry said as she spooned brown grains into a mug.

"Yeah," Al confirmed. "Never would've thought he could scream so loud."

"If he lives in a high altitude region, then odds are he and a lot of the people in Atmos developed lungs much larger than yours or mine," Winry said conversationally. "I guess the time he's spent in Amestris has caused him to adapt though."

Al nodded. He liked it when Winry reminded him of her medical knowledge. She always sounded so proud and confident.

"Do you know if Granny wants some coffee?" she asked.

"I think she will," Al said. "Though I think she wanted to sleep in today."

Winry nodded in acknowledgement, and then her gaze wandered to the window. The sun was higher in the sky than she had expected; evidently she had overslept a little. Maybe she should start setting an alarm-

Before she could finish that thought, there was a knock on the front door.

Both of them of them turned to look in its direction.

"Winry, were you expecting anybody?" asked Al.

"What?" Winry exclaimed. "At this time in the morning? No!"

Nearby, the kettle started to whistle.

"Can you start on the coffee while I see who it is?" she asked.

"Sure," Al said, and Winry left the room.

Who on earth could be calling on them? She didn't have any appointments booked for today and as far as she knew, neither did Granny. So unless it was an emergency call…

She opened the door and was met by two teenage boys and a blue furry something.

"Hey, Winry!" Aerrow said happily. "Long time no see!"

"You're looking in a very pleasant, non-violent mood this morning!" Ed said, equally as happy, while behind them Radarr gave a pleased thumbs-up.

Winry didn't buy it.

"Alright," she said bitterly, "what did you do this time?"

Still grinning, Radarr held up a torn-off automail arm.

Also still grinning, Ed held up a torn-off automail leg.

Winry felt her blood begin to boil.

* * *

Finn cautiously entered the kitchen with Den on his heels.

"Hey, Finn," Al said pleasantly. "You want some coffee?"

"Sure," Finn replied, and his voice sounded empty. "Milk and two sugars."

"Got it," said Al, and he prepared a mug. "You know, I'm a little surprised Brother didn't come with you. I thought he'd want to come home for his birthday, at least."

"Ed's birthday's soon?" asked Finn.

"Mm-hm," Al said. "It's hard to believe he'll be seventeen already."

But before the conversation could go any further, they were cut off by a demonic scream from the front door:

" _ **YOU MORONS!**_ "

Quickly followed by a deafening crash.

Several seconds of silence passed, during which the two blonds could only stare blankly in the direction of the house's main entrance.

Surprisingly, Finn was the first to come to his senses.

"Al, listen," he said. "There's something I want to do."

* * *

"Seriously," Winry said as Ed lay dazed and Radarr rubbed Aerrow's head with a cold, damp cloth, "it's almost like you guys deliberately try to make more work for us."

Radarr squawked indignantly.

"Yes, I know that's not the case," Winry responded, "but that's what it feels like!"

"We didn't mean for it to happen," Aerrow explained as Ed finally started to come round. "We just… _ow_."

"We were sparring," Ed said weakly, "and we… got a bit over-excited."

The door opened and a familiar little old lady walked into the room.

"Of course," she said, half-amused and half-annoyed. "What week would be complete without a visit from our two most dedicated customers?"

"Sorry," Aerrow said bashfully. "If it's any consolation, they're mostly in one piece."

"That doesn't do us a whole lot of good when they're still broken!" Winry pointed out as Granny examined the broken limbs.

"They're not just broken," she reported. "The cables have been almost completely severed in both of them. What in the world were you two doing?"

"We figured we could go one-on-one with Aerrow's energy blades," said Ed. "You know, since he duel wields and all, and people we fight aren't going to be using cardboard or wood."

"Unfortunately," said Aerrow, "we didn't really factor in the, uh…"

He glanced at Radarr for help, and the co-pilot mimed a chop with his paw.

"…cutting power," Aerrow finished with a nervous smile. "Striker crystals and all."

Granny sighed in exasperation while Winry slapped her forehead.

"That explains the melting," said Granny as she examined the torn-off end of Ed's leg. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was cut halfway and the rest fell off by itself. I'd be curious to know just how much heat those weapons of yours can generate, young man."

"Well, they glow blue," Aerrow pointed out, "so that probably means a lot. I think that might just be the crystal I use though."

Winry let out a growl of frustration.

"You're ridiculous," she snarled, and she seized Aerrow's arm and turned on Ed. "Both of you are completely and utterly RIDICULOUS-!"

"LOOK! WE BROUGHT A GIFT! FOR YOU!" Ed interjected, and before Winry had a chance to hit him, he held up a small, velvet coated box between them.

For several tense seconds, Winry stared at it.

Then she sighed and took the box.

"You're lucky I'm nice," she said, thankfully less angry than she had been.

Granny cast a suspicious look in Aerrow's direction, and he and Radarr shrugged to say 'What were we meant to do?'

Winry opened the box and made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a scream. Whatever it was, it was excited.

"Ed, these are beautiful!" she cried. "Are these real sapphires? However much did these cost?"

"Cost?" Aerrow said, baffled. "They barely cost anything. But yeah, they're genuine."

Winry squealed in delight and spun around and around on one foot, clutching the little box to her cheek as if trying to embrace it.

"How was a scrappy little thing like you able to afford genuine sapphires?" Granny asked as Ed seemed to deflate from relief.

"I already said they barely cost anything," said Aerrow, ignoring the comment on his appearance (though he probably did look rather scrappy without his arm). "If a crystal can't be used to power something or fight, it's not really worth much. Same goes for metals; bronze is strong, but it's not as strong as iron and you have to make it rather than just digging it up, so it's used for jewellery more than anything else."

"This is amazing!" shouted Winry. "Thank you, both of you! Thank you so, so much!"

She hugged Ed and kissed him on the cheek.

There was a knock on the already-open door.

"Is this a private conversation or can anybody join?" asked the boy who stood there.

"Al!" Ed exclaimed happily.

"Ed!" Al cried just as happily, and he hurried over and hugged his brother. "You're back!"

"Yeah, I'm here," Ed said as he awkwardly tried to return the embrace. "Not by choice, but-"

"Finn?"

The room fell silent when Aerrow spoke the name, as he had caught sight of a third blond boy looking nervously into the room.

"Finn, what're you doing here?" asked the redhead, and he didn't sound happy.

Finn stepped out of sight.

"What's the matter?" asked Winry, having finally snapped out of her over-excited delirium. "Is he not supposed to be here?"

"No," Aerrow said solidly. "When did he arrive?"

"Last night," said Al. "He came in shouting that somebody was after him and he was terrified. He told us people had chased him and-"

"Hold that thought," said Aerrow, and he got up and walked out of the room with Radarr still clinging to his shoulder.

Ed slapped himself on the head.

"Goddammit," he muttered, "can't believe I forgot..."

"Forgot what?" asked Winry.

"The new rule," said Ed. "No Storm Hawk is to leave the Condor alone anymore. Not after what happened to Finn."

"And I suppose you won't be able to tell us exactly what it was that happened to Finn?" asked Granny.

Ed shook his head.

"No," he said. "No, it would be best if he told you himself. Although…"

He looked to the door.

"…something tells me he doesn't plan on doing that any time soon."

* * *

"Finn," Aerrow said sternly while Radarr glared down at the blond with crossed arms, "you knew about the rule."

Nervous, Finn nodded.

"The rule that no-one is to leave the Condor unaccompanied."

Another nod.

"Which also applies to entering Amestris. You're not to do that alone."

More nodding.

"But you still decided you would leave and come to Amestris without telling anybody, and now I hear that you were attacked and chased? That you arrived here terrified? Even though you knew about this rule?"

Finn hesitated before nodding again.

"And you know it's a rule that was instated for your safety."

Finn didn't nod.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Not after last night."

Aerrow didn't reply. He and Radarr were too busy gaping in shock.

"I know you're angry," said Finn. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"Finn," Aerrow said weakly, "Finn, you- since when did you start talking again?"

Finn shrugged.

"Since last night, I guess," he said. "Captain Hawkeye was nice to me. I felt like it would be weird if I just hugged her, so I asked her. It… it kinda feels good. To talk again, I mean."

Aerrow seemed to forget about his anger and disappointment and pulled his wingman into a one-armed hug, which Finn returned (with two arms, of course). Radarr joined in, hugging as much of Finn as he could reach.

"This is so good for you," Aerrow said. "It means you're getting better. Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry at you for breaking the rule, but I'm proud of you."

"So then…" Finn said hesitantly, "you won't mind if…"

Aerrow and Radarr pulled away.

"If what?" asked Aerrow. "Finn, what's wrong?"

Finn gulped. He was obviously still nervous.

"How did you even get here so fast?" he asked. "It should've taken you ages."

"We flew," said Aerrow, "on my ride. Finn, what is it you were going to mention? What won't I mind? Whatever it is you want to tell me, I promise you I'll listen. You only just started talking again, so I owe you that much."

Finn ran a hand through his hair.

"O-okay," he said. "I already told Al, so I guess it'll be cool to tell you too, so listen up."


	3. Chapter 3

There was another knock at the front door and Den started barking enthusiastically.

"Alphonse!" Winry called, looking up briefly from her measuring. "Do you think you could see who that is?"

"Sure thing!" Al responded, and he could be heard walking in the direction of the front door and telling Den to calm down.

"It's probably Gramps with the parts I ordered," Winry explained to nobody in particular as she examined the tape. "Your arm was mostly in good condition, Flyboy, but it needs adjusting for your growth and the cut-off region was half-melted, so it'll need replacements."

"Flyboy?" Aerrow raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"That's what Ed calls you, right?" Winry asked cheerfully.

"Sometimes," Aerrow replied, "but it seems kinda weird to hear you saying it."

"Don't baby him, Winry," Ed said bitterly as he sipped his even more bitter coffee. "It's his fault we're in this goddamn mess."

"You're the one that suggested we use my blades for sparring," Aerrow pointed out.

"But you're the one who stabbed at my leg!" cried Ed.

"So you thought it would be a good idea to cut my arm, did you?!" Aerrow asked angrily.

"Now, now, ladies," said Granny. "You're both pretty so there's no need to bicker."

She rolled up her measuring tape while Ed gave her an annoyed glare from behind his mug.

"Believe it or not, Edward, you do appear to have grown slightly during your absence," she said. "I don't know if you were having a little trouble walking properly before you so foolishly lost your leg yet again, but it looks like I'll have to give you a bit of an extension."

"I guess the lower gravity's stretching him," Aerrow said with amusement. "Pretty soon we'll have to weigh him to the ground."

"Perhaps," said Granny. "Or he finally started drinking his milk like good boys should."

" _Milk is gross_ ," Ed said emphatically.

"Grow up, Edward," Winry chastised. "It's only milk, it's not like there's any way it could hurt you. And Granny, you're always working so hard. Why don't you let me handle Ed's leg for once? Take a bit of time off."

"Hmm," Granny hummed, tapping on her chin with one finger. "I'm not too certain about that, Winry. I wouldn't want to put you under too much pressure."

"There's no hurry," said Aerrow. "Home's been pretty quiet lately, and I'm sure the rest of my team can handle it if something comes up while the three- _four_ of us are here. It's not like we want you to stay up all night for us."

"Please don't," Ed begged.

"Granny, it's nothing I can't handle," Winry said confidently. "You did all the most recent orders. Don't you think you deserve a bit of a break?"

Several silent seconds passed as Granny thought over the possibilities. The only sounds were muffled thumping footsteps from the other room and a slurp from Ed with his coffee.

"Alright," she said eventually. "I suppose I could take some time off to do some gardening. Winry, if you think you're up to the job, then feel free to do as you please."

"Thank you, Granny!" Winry said happily. "I promise I'll do a good job and I'll make you proud!"

"Of course you will," Granny said with a smile. "You're a Rockbell, after all. It's in our nature to do a fantastic job."

Aerrow shared a glance with Ed, who seemed more than a little amused at the current events. Whether or not Winry really was up to the job was something they were going to have to wait and see.

* * *

"So you get it?" asked Finn.

Radarr nodded.

"And you can't tell him, understand?" Finn requested. "Don't even hint at it."

Radarr saluted proudly.

"Good," Finn said, though he didn't sound massively excited. "Nice to know I can still trust you, big guy."

"Hey, Finn?"

When Finn looked up, Al was holding a large, heavy-looking package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.

"Can you give me a hand?" he asked. "I'm afraid I'm still not strong enough to carry all of these on my own."

"Sure," Finn said, while Radarr scampered away to find Aerrow.

He got up and took the package from Al's arms and discovered that it really was rather heavy.

"Whoa," he groaned, and he couldn't avoid staggering a little. "Dude, what's in here?"

"It's mostly plating," said a feminine voice from the front doorway, "but there's cables and wires in there as well, plus some extra gears Winry asked for."

Caught off-guard by the unfamiliar voice, Finn looked to the doorway and saw a girl around Ed's age with dark, sharp-looking eyes and dark hair tied into a loose bun. She wiped sweat away from her forehead and her bangs after passing another package to Al.

"Never seen you here before," she said pleasantly to the Storm Hawk. "My name's Azian. My grandfather owns the smithy that makes most of the Rockbells' parts."

She held out a hand to shake, but quickly withdrew it when she realised shaking wasn't possible.

"I…" Finn said numbly, trying his best not to stare at her. "I… I'm…"

"Is it just these two?" asked Al, trying to save the other blond from humiliation.

"Right now, it's only two," Azian said. "Unless I forgot something again."

"Well, thanks for dropping them off," Al replied.

"No problem," said Azian. "Tell Winry I said hi!"

She turned and walked away, and Finn couldn't avoid watching after her.

"She has a boyfriend, you know," Al said.

"Oh?" said Finn, and failed to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah," Al replied. "And they've been together for quite a while now. Pretty much the whole town is hoping they'll get married."

Finn was quiet.

"There's already rumours that he bought her a ring while he was helping with a delivery in the West last year," Al added to further his point.

"Do you think…?" Finn said unsteadily.

"Think what?" asked Al.

"…she would mind?" said Finn. "If we… you know, our plan."

"Maybe," said Al. "Depends on who would find out. I think I should go and suggest it to her. Could you hold this for me?"

He dropped the package he had been carrying on top of the one Finn already held and the poor marksman almost collapsed under the weight.

"Thank you!" Al called as he ran out and away from the house.

With a groan of effort, Finn carried the packages further into the house and put them down near a doorway, unable to carry them any more than that. He definitely needed to work out when he got home; seclusion in his room was causing him to lose his muscle.

"Alphonse!" called Granny from the other room. "Can either you or Finn bring us the wheelchair from the basement?"

"I'm on it," Finn replied.

He quickly found the door that led down into a dark, musty room that looked so dingy that he made sure to leave the door open to let the light in. Knowing his luck, it would probably close while he was down there and he wouldn't be able to get it open again.

At least he still had good night vision. That hadn't been lost with his eye.

The wheelchair was propped against the wall in a corner. He trotted down the steps and seized it by the handle, and heaved it up the stairs as quickly as he could. The sooner he could get to a point where he could drop this thing, the better.

He emerged from the basement with his forehead dripping with sweat already, even though he hadn't been doing a whole lot of physical activity, and dropped the dusty wheelchair on the floor. He fell to his knees next to it and tried to catch his breath.

'Damn,' he thought. 'I must really be out of shape.'

"Don't tell me you're exhausted already, young man."

He looked up and saw Granny Rockbell looking down at him, sucking casually on her pipe.

"You're welcome," Finn said bitterly, and he dragged himself to his feet. "Why do you need this thing anyway?"

"We need it because we gave way our last complete prosthetic leg yesterday," Granny replied as she took hold of the chair's handle, "and Edward's too damn impatient to just wait for his own to be repaired. The silly boy will need some way of getting around, though he'll need us to help him when it comes to the stairs."

She pulled the chair into the other room while Finn sat there, feeling grumpy.

He really liked being here in Resembool, but he could have down without the patronising.

* * *

"Oh for heaven's sake, cheer up!" Winry complained.

Ed glared at her. He honestly looked more like a frog than anything else and the sight of his face was borderline hilarious.

"You've got your chair," Winry pointed out. "So now you can move around again! What's with the face?"

"No legs left?" asked Ed. "Really?"

"You didn't think we had an infinite supply of prosthetic legs, did you?" asked Granny. "Really, Edward, we're only human. We can't be constantly churning out spare parts whenever you need one."

"If it's any consolation," said Aerrow as Radarr tied his coat's sleeve into a knot, "we're in the same boat."

"Yeah," Ed said bitterly, "'coz you really need your arms to _walk_."

"I need them to fight!" Aerrow pointed out. "I dual wield, remember?"

"And whose stupid idea was that?" Ed demanded.

"Ugh, both of you shut up before you give me a headache," said Winry. "Ed, I think you need some time out. I'm taking you up to your room and I refuse to hear any objections!"

She took hold of the handles on Ed's chair and wheeled him out of the room.

"I'm not about to apologise for not being the happiest person in the world," he said, still as bitter as a rotten apple. "I haven't been in a wheelchair since I was eleven and I don't really want to be treated like a child again, let alone an invalid."

"You're not an invalid, Ed," said Winry as she started pushing him up the stairs. "You're just unable to walk at the moment and taking it as an opportunity to be annoying."

Ed felt his body jolt violently as he crested the steps.

"Uh, Win?" he said. "You sure you can handle this? 'Coz if I fall-"

"It's nothing you need to worry about!" Winry insisted angrily, and she didn't sound even slightly out of breath. "You were the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward! Fullmetal! Surely someone with a code name like that would understand how if you're working around heavy machinery, it doesn't exactly leave you weak and useless. At least not for very long!"

She didn't stop pushing until they were halfway up the stairs, at which point she looked to her patient with a bright smile.

"You want to keep going or shall we stop here for a break?" she asked.

Ed stared at her in alarm.

"Jeez," he muttered. "You haven't even broken a sweat!"

Winry giggled bashfully.

"It's just one of those things!" she said, and flexed her arms for him to see. "I hadn't even noticed until I came home at least from the North, but my arms have gotten really thick. I doubt I'll ever be as resilient as you, but I'm exactly not what you could call a weakling."

As he watched the muscles flexing in her arms, a sly smile crossed Ed's face, and Winry frowned.

"I guess you could say you're…"

" _Don't_."

"…Winripped?"

* * *

"Oh, hey Winry!" Al said cheerfully as he closed the front door. "How's Brother doing?"

"He hit his head," Winry snapped, and she stormed away before the baffled alchemist had a chance to ask for explanation.

* * *

The first thing Ed felt upon awakening was a throbbing pain in his head, and when he blearily reached up to feel it, he found a welt at least the size of an egg.

"Damn," he muttered. "Winry has _not_ gotten rusty."

She hadn't been kidding about the manual labour increasing her muscle mass. Her strikes with her wrench had clearly grown stronger over the years and Ed considered himself thankful that he didn't have permanent brain damage by now.

Hopefully those new earrings would sate her somewhat, so long as she didn't go poking more holes in herself to accommodate them.

'We do everything to avoid injury unless it's to make us look good,' Ed thought, 'at which point we'll happily stick a needle through ourselves to make a hole to store pretty stones in. Jeez, humans are weird.'

He rubbed his head again. Even the thought of needles being stuck into him was disturbing.

It was only when he opened his eyes once more that he finally realised where he was: his bedroom. At least Winry had been courteous enough to wheel his unconscious body to somewhere he could be comfortable while he was in pain and likely to grow increasingly impatient over the next few days. He wouldn't be surprised if she decided to spin out the work on his leg for the rest of the month purely out of spite. And finish Aerrow's arm within a day, fine-tuned and smoother in the joints than ever, just to rub it in even more.

She'd probably give him her best possible oil, too.

Dammit. Wasn't there anything else he could think about?

Apparently somebody had planned for this, as there was a pair of binoculars sitting on his windowsill.

Next to his bed…

Okay, he could do this. He'd accomplished far more difficult tasks in the past, so moving from a wheelchair to a bed should be pretty damn easy. If he could defeat an eldritch abomination from beyond the realms of accepted existence with nothing more than his bare hands, he could sure as hell move from here onto his bed.

He rested his foot on the ground and pressed down on the chair's arms, easing himself upwards, and the chair promptly span out from under him and he crashed down to the ground and landed on his backside.

"Ow…" he groaned. "Crap, Winry, if I've got a broken coccyx because of this…"

He grabbed the side of his bed, pulled his body up and flopped onto the mattress. The pain at the bottom of his spine shot up through his body.

'Well, _something_ got hurt,' he decided. 'Best not tell Win. She'd probably try to charge me for it.'

He tried to get comfy, which wasn't easy when he was aching in a rather personal place. Eventually he settled for pulling his pillows closer and sitting on them.

With nothing left to do, he looked out the window.

It was still a clear and sunny day, but the lack of leaves on all the trees he could see from here was rather unsettling. Not as unsettling as it would have been if it was half past eleven at night and wind was howling past the house with a full moon and thunder rumbling in the distance, but still a little eerie to look at. Hopefully there would be buds sprouting before the month was out.

Why had someone left binoculars for him?

With nothing better to do, he picked them up and looked out to the horizon. He saw a small flock of birds flying out to the distant mountains and when he looked down, he could see the citizens of his town doing something in the fields. Probably preparing it for growing crops in a few weeks.

His gaze wandered further down and he saw the road, which was unsurprisingly bare given the time of year. Nobody would want to be outside for too long today. In spite of the bright sun, it was bitterly cold out there. It hadn't been nice to what was left of his leg.

'Good thing I got my old arm back,' he considered. 'Don't even want to know what kind of hell the cold would…'

His train of thought drew to a halt as he noticed Aerrow – or rather, the back of Aerrow – jogging to catch up with a dark-haired girl who was walking away from the building he sat in.

'Guess that was Gramps' kid with the parts Winry ordered,' he realised. 'What the heck are you doing, Flyboy?'

He watched as Aerrow passed her a bag, which he guessed contained the payment for the parts. Even for the people who made it, automail wasn't free.

And his jaw hit the floor as Azian – that was her name, right? – leaned forward and gave the redheaded Sky Knight a peck on the cheek.

Aerrow turned back to face the house, looking surprised, before running his fingers over where her lips had touched them and smiling, faintly but obviously pleased.

'What the hell is going on down there?' wondered Ed. 'Last I heard she already had a boyfriend. Why would she…'

He looked from the approaching Aerrow to the retreating Azian, who was hurrying down the road, occasionally glancing back at the house. Or was it the people who were residing there who had her interest?

Moreover, Aerrow had allowed her to kiss him.

On the _face_.

This was a guy who was still on-edge about unwarranted touching and tended to need a few moments to compose himself after automail adjustments and if he needed to be pulled up off a ledge, and he had just allowed a girl he didn't know – or at least, a girl Ed had _assumed_ he didn't know – to kiss him on the cheek.

'What is going on here?' he wondered.

He looked over at the door. He wanted to go downstairs and ask, but to do so would be extremely uncomfortable. He'd either have to crawl down pathetically or try to ride down in his wheelchair, and if he somehow avoided tumbling head over heels, it would be hell on his already-sore backbone.

And he didn't want to call for Winry. With the way she had warned him not to make that pun, there was no chance she'd be happy to dote on him again.

God dammit…

* * *

Having returned inside, Aerrow slumped against the now-closed door and slid down to the floor.

It had already felt a little awkward to act familiar with a girl he'd never even met before today, but to have her kiss him like that, even if it was on the cheek, was bringing back certain feelings he would rather have remained dead and buried.

He rubbed his face and sighed. This was exhausting. Never being able to escape from his own recurring terror, even when he was in the company of people he knew for a fact he could trust, was _exhausting_. He felt sorry for all the failed Sky Knights and their squadron members who hadn't been able to mentally recover from conflicts on a similar or worse level to what he had experienced over the past couple of years.

"Aerrow?"

He looked up. His oldest friend was standing over him, looking down at him with worry in his eye.

"Are you alright?" asked Finn.

"Are _you_ alright?" Aerrow responded. "You're the one cooking up this scheme. You sure it'll work?"

Finn shook his head.

"Where did you get that patch?" asked the redhead.

"Wh- this?" Finn felt the papery square that was now tied to his face with thin, flimsy-looking string. "Al suggested- Winry leant me a few. I mean, they're pretty weak, but they'll last until I can get a proper one. Less awkward than shades."

Even though his scars now seemed even more prominent.

Trying to ignore this, Aerrow stood up.

"Finn," he said, "I want you to go back to the Condor."

"What?!"

"Tell the rest of the squad everything about what's going on. If you're anxious about taking the trip to Central by yourself, I'm sure Al will accompany you if you ask him. If anything, the two of you being gone will help make my part easier to do."

Resigned, Finn nodded.

"And you might want to wear your shades for the ride," Aerrow pointed out. "I don't think that papery thing blowing off while you're driving would be very fun."

"Yeah," said Finn, and he obediently pressed his sunglasses onto his face. "Yeah, o-okay."

When he had disappeared in search of the younger Elric brother, Aerrow slumped back against the door and slid back down to the floor.

In silence, he prayed to whatever gods might have been able to hear him that he would be able to pull this off.

* * *

At the sound of the door downstairs slamming shut, Ed snatched up his binoculars again. He didn't care if it was wrong to snoop. He was going to go insane if he was just stuck here staring up at his ceiling for the whole time Winry worked on his leg.

He saw nothing.

'What the hell?' he thought. 'I definitely heard the front door closing. What's going on?'

He lowered the binoculars and leaned as far as the glass would allow him to see down below his window. If he strained both his neck and eyes, he could just about make out the combed gold of Alphonse's hair shining in the sunlight. It didn't help that he was standing pretty much right below the window.

'Al?' Ed was baffled. 'Where are you going?'

He watched and waited, wondering what his younger brother was doing out there, and his unasked question was answered when Finn came into view, wheeling his skimmer out and saying something to Al that was muffled by walls and window panes.

While Ed watched, frowning, the two blonds climbed onto the skimmer – Al hanging on for dear life – and drove away from the house, taking to the air once they had enough speed and clearance.

"Wonder where they're headed," Ed pondered aloud.

"Back to Atrmos."

"GYA!" Ed almost jumped out of his skin. "Aerrow, couldn't you knock! Knocking is a thing, you know!"

"I know," Aerrow said smugly, "but making you freak out is also a thing."

Ed just growled.

"I told Finn to head back to Atmos and let the rest of the squadron know what was happening," Aerrow explained. "I don't want them to worry about us for no reason. Especially Finn, since we've found that him being away from the Condor by himself doesn't always have the best results."

Still annoyed, Ed just grunted in agreement.

"How're those binoculars suiting you?" asked Aerrow. "We figured you'd get bored if you were just stuck up here until your leg's done, so we figured you could do some birdwatching or something. Or I could bring you some books from downstairs if you need them."

"Nah," Ed said simply, "I'm fine."

Aerrow shrugged.

"Fair enough," he said. "You just yell if there's anything you need, alright?"

"Alright," said Ed, and the Sky Knight departed to who knows where.

Alone again, the disgruntled tutor raised the binoculars once more and saw that even with their enhancement, the skimmer was already little more than a speck retreating into the distance.

"Finn," he said quietly, "if you don't bring back my brother in one piece…"

* * *

By now, the sun had long since set. Ed had spent almost a whole hour sitting there, gazing out at the sky and searching for any signs of a crash, before eventually giving up and having a short nap. After that, he had resorted to birdwatching, and had seen a good number – ironically enough – of sparrows and finches that seemed to have returned early from their winter migration.

It still seemed like an odd, unsuitable name. Finchley. It was the sort of name reserved for the pampered, wimpy sons of butlers in fancy mansions who would no doubt grow up to be nothing more than downtrodden footmen. Not a cocky sniper who never seemed to realise what he was getting himself into until it was too late.

At least it was a clear, peaceful night, so hopefully the stars could provide him with some distraction.

He looked around at them, trying to get a better focus on their twinkle, but even with the enhancement they were never larger than tiny white specks. Occasionally he would see one with a tint, such as yellow or red or even blue, but way too many where white for him to count.

Damn. He must've been _crazy_ bored if he was even finding stargazing dull.

There was a clanking noise from near his foot, and he moved his dinner plate off his bed to the floor. At least his family had been kind enough to provide him with food in this most annoying of times.

Frustrated still, he raised the binoculars again and found his gaze drawn further down than it had been, to the lights emanating from the town rather than above it. From here he had a rather nice vantage point of a majority of Resembool's buildings. So what if he was snooping? He was going to go crazy if he didn't figure out _something_ to do.

Somewhere downstairs, a door opened and closed.

Ed's head was turned by the flash of light from below his window as somebody left the house. Looking down, he saw a figure walking away, the back of his coat illuminated by the light from the house.

'Where the hell are you off to, Flyboy?' the ex-alchemist wondered.

He returned his eyes to the binoculars again and followed the redhead as he walked confidently down the road, surprisingly steady considering he was missing one arm, and Ed had no idea how long it took him to go all that way to one of the houses that was only barely in view.

The house right next to a forge.

"What…?" Ed muttered. "What's he doing visiting Gramps at this time of night?"

No. No, it wasn't Gramps. From his vantage point, Ed had a clear view through the open drapes of the house, and he could make out Aerrow now inside and holding some kind of awkward conversation with Azian. It was obvious she was pleased to see him, but Aerrow still seemed rather nervous.

'Guess this is about what happened earlier,' Ed theorised. 'Don't know what the hell you were thinking, girly, but it wasn't a very good…'

His train of thought derailed.

The conversation inside the little house was becoming heated. Aerrow was pacing, and even from this distance Ed could see a wild glint in his eyes. Azian was talking fast, trying desperately to reason with him by the looks of things, but to no avail.

'Wow,' Ed internally muttered. 'That got ugly fast.'

By now Aerrow was standing right at one side of the window, his back to the girl, who came up behind him and wrapped him in a tight hug.

'Oh god, no,' thought Ed. 'He- is he having another panic attack? Bad idea; get away from him or-'

Before his thought could finish, Aerrow threw Azian off and out of sight, and the following few seconds were a blur of punches as, beyond the border of the window, the sky knight mercilessly pounded the girl into the floor with his fist.

When he stood up, panting heavily after what felt like an eternity, he was covered in splatters of red.

Then he looked down, seemed to realise what he had done, and he sat down, rubbing his head.

The binoculars slipped from Ed's numb fingers and thumped uselessly onto his bedsheet.


	4. Here comes a thought

**Hey guys.**

 **I've been thinking over this story and the direction I wanted it to take, and the more I think about it, the more I realise it doesn't fit either FMA _or_ Storm Hawks. Parts of it would be OOC and just wouldn't make sense, and overall it doesn't really fit what I'm trying to go for.**

 **So I'm looking to hear feedback from the readers who have made it this far and/or have been sticking with me for all this time while I've been struggling to come up with ideas. The concept for the story that would come after this is, I promise, a much more optimistic and entertaining one, so this is where your input comes in:**

 **Should I try to continue this story?**

 **Or would it be a good idea to skip to the next one and do a bit of a rewrite?**

 **I know that given how long it's been, this is probably less than timely, but I have serious concerns and I'd love to hear your opinions.**


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